


In the Ruins of Ragnarok

by freudensteins_monster



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angry Sex, Comfort Sex, F/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok, Thor Ragnarok SPOILERS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: **MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THOR RAGNAROK** Seriously, don't read if you haven't seen the movie.





	In the Ruins of Ragnarok

**Author's Note:**

> **MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THOR RAGNAROK** Seriously, don't read if you haven't seen the movie.

Loki was exhausted from battle but too aware of the pit of anxiety growing in his gut to sleep. So instead of resting in the large private cabin he managed to claim for himself he wandered the ship, alone with his thoughts.

“Midgard”, he muttered with disgust and maybe just a hint of fear. Why did Thor have to input the coordinates for that stupid little planet where Loki’s crimes were probably far from forgotten? Not that it mattered, he would go where Thor went, curse his cemented loyalties. Blood or not, Thor was his brother, and once Loki accepted that fact he felt a twisted knot of complicated emotions he preferred not to analyze loosen his chest. His soul felt lighter than it had in years, unburdened by past jealousies and grudges, but lingering fears remained to pick at his contentment. The Titan’s revenge still loomed and Loki, now committed to fight at Thor’s side, was probably going to die. Again. 

Doing the right thing was terrible for one’s health, he mused, pausing as he turned a corner to find he was no longer alone. A woman stood by a large transparent section of the hull, her mind elsewhere as the ship sailed through a glittering universe. The rest of the passengers, the last of the Asgardians, had been directed to the medbay or shown to the sleeping quarters on one of the lower level hours ago. One look at the woman, and the way she held her left arm close to her, had Loki was in no doubt where she should be. As he moved closer he thought he recognised her from the battle on the bridge; one of the Asgardians who took up arms against Hela’s undead army. She was not skilled with a blade, none of them were, but they all fought with such fire and stubbornness Loki had to admire them.

“You should have gone to the medbay,” Loki said by way of a greeting, startling the woman.

“What?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing as the God of Mischief approached her.

“Your arm,” Loki pointed out patiently.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest in such a way that the bruised limb was under her undamaged one.

“Allow me,” Loki persisted, holding a hand out to her, green sparks dancing across his fingertips.

The woman stared at his hand as though it were a serpent poised to strike her, but her practicality soon won out and with a put upon sigh she held out her arm to him.

Smirking at his small victory he took her arm in his hands, ignoring the way she forced herself not to flinch, and pushed his seidr into her aching muscles, healing the tiny fractures along the bone beneath. Asgardians were made of sterner stuff, and she would have no doubt have been healed fully in a day or so without aid, but Loki was a do-gooder now, some cynical part of him mocked. Hearts and minds, a far more pragmatic part of him countered.

Despite his grand entrance and his efforts on the battlefield it would still be a while before the Asgardians forgave him, let alone trusted him. A few small acts of kindness (and the gossip that would circulate afterwards) would go far to improve his standing with them. But judging by the way the woman sneered as she pulled back her now-healed arm, she wasn’t going to be telling anyone about his good deed any time soon.

“A ‘thank you, your Highness’ wouldn’t go astray,” Loki prompted, doing his damndest to keep his temper in check.

“‘Thank you, your Highness?,” the woman scoffed. “And what exactly are you a prince of, hmm?” She turned back to the window and stared out into the blackness. They were far from Asgardian space, almost to the edge of the system, and even if Asgard still stood the woman would not be able to see it, but from the pained look in her eyes you would think that she could still the crumbled remains of the Realm thought Eternal littered amongst the stars.

Loki wanted to say that it wasn’t his fault, but the words died on his tongue. No matter how he looked at it, it was his actions that brought them here.

“It was prophesied,” he said instead. “Ragnarok was an inevitability.”

“You’ll lose no sleep over this, will you?” she demanded, biting her tongue to stop from saying what was truly on her mind.

Her restraint amused Loki but the longer he studied her the more he understood. He recognised all too easily the anger that pressed against her ribs, making it hard for her to breathe, and the way her expression flittered from rage to confusion to immeasurable grief in the span of a heartbeat. She longed for an outlet for her frustrations, that much was clear, and would manifest as a need for violence if allowed to fester, as had did for him, but Loki was confident he could turn her destructive desires to more enjoyable pursuits.

Loki found his lips curling into his most charming grin, “I could stand to lose some with you.”

She looked shocked at his proposition, and for a moment Loki feared he would get slapped for his impertinence, but when he caught her sharp gaze flicking down the length of his torso and lower still, he knew he’d won.

** *** ** 

Loki wondered, albeit briefly as he bounced off the slow-to-open doors of his cabin, careful not to dislodge the passionate woman barely contained in his arms, how long it had been since he had desired a companion. There had been an ill-conceived dalliance with Sif almost a century ago (done more to use it against her than because of any real attraction he felt) but there had been no one memorable since then. He wondered if it was his Jotun biology that caused him to be so far removed the libidinous Fandral and Asgardians like him. He wondered why he craved companionship now.

The woman in his arms held no love for him, that much was obvious, and yet she still pawed at him though she desired him, kissing him feverishly as though he were her only source of sustenance in the universe, still mewled as though only his touch could bring her satisfaction. And  satisfy her he would, of this much Loki was certain. 

He tried to put her down in order to shed his vestments, but the moment her feet found purchase she used all her strength to push him back onto his ostentatious bed, already decorated in his trademark green. The woman pulled her tattered gown over her head, her long tresses falling down her bare back, and Loki dared not delay another moment, using his seiðr to vanish his clothing to a pocket dimension. She crawled over him, licking a stripe along his twitching member before manoeuvring herself over him.

“What is your name?” Loki asked, biting back a string of curses as she gripped his tumescent cock in her hands.

“What does it matter to you?” she sighed, her head falling back as lowered herself onto it.

“I want –  _ fuck!  _ – I want to hear you cry my name as you come undone. I thought you might like the same,” he teased, or at least tried to as the woman’s distracting warmth enveloped him completely .

“I’d much rather you stayed silent,” the woman replied sharply as she began to ride him in earnest.

Loki gripped her hips in a vain attempt to maintain some control over the situation. He knew if he didn’t do something soon she would find her relief, come to her senses, and promptly walk away, never to seek him out again. The knowledge irked him in ways he didn’t understand, so he fought against it. He sat up suddenly, one hand wrapping around her lower back to keep her pressed against him as he thrust into her, the other twisting in her hair as his lips sought hers. When she recovered from the sudden position change, clinging to him as she pleasured herself on his cock, Loki removed his arm from about her waist, placing his hand between them, his long, dexterous fingers seeking her clit, smirking against her throat as she gasped in shock.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he purred. “Use me, ride me hard, come on my cock and I’ll make you see stars, I swear it,” Loki encouraged, not that she needed it, writhing in his lap as she was, rolling her hips in a such a way that Loki feared he might black out from pleasure. When she began to cry out in ecstasy, and Loki could feel her cunt begin to pulse around his cock, he rolled them over and pinned her to the bed. She moaned long and low as he buried himself to the hilt within her maddening heat. He thrust into her with abandon, the sharpness of her nails scratching at his shoulder blades only serving to spur him on. If there was any doubt in his mind that she wanted more it was shattered as she called his name.

“Loki!” she begged, clinging to him in the darkness.

Loki groaned as the sound of his name upon her lips went straight to his cock, holding out just long enough for his companion to climax again before finding his own release.

“Shit,” he muttered as he rolled off of her and tried to catch his breath.

“Uhuh,” the woman panted, surprising Loki by curling up against him, shivering from more than the cold.

“Everything will be alright,” he whispered against her hair.

“Still the God of Lies, I see,” she replied without any venom.

“So it seems,” Loki conceded.

They lay together in silence, focusing on the warmth of the body pressed against theirs and not the terrifying unknowns that awaited them outside the cabin doors, until Loki’s companion offered him a gift.

“Sigyn. My name is Sigyn.”

 


End file.
